


Snowbirds Learn To Fly

by Nimravidae



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Birds of Prey (Comic), DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Bittersweet, Drug Withdrawal, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mixed Post/Pre Flashpoint because fuck N52 Backstories, Past Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use, Relapse, Sad, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 04:25:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3837016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nimravidae/pseuds/Nimravidae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dinah knew something bad was going to happen today, but she had hoped it wouldn't involve Roy losing his sobriety.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowbirds Learn To Fly

**Author's Note:**

> I commissioned a friend of mine for a piece of art involving this scene and I couldn't help but write it out because after reading Snowbirds again I kept imagining "What would Dinah do if Roy relapsed during his time with the Outlaws?"

She wasn’t so much upset that it happened as she was upset that it was Jason Todd that had to tell her about it.

His glare matched hers awfully well as the Red Hood’s back was pressed firmly against the solid and cold wall, a Bo staff pressing against his throat with a promise to choke him into unconsciousness if he moved in any wrong fashion.

Dinah Lance knew something was going to happen today, she had just wished it wasn’t this.

She had that nagging feeling in her gut all night – something was going to go wrong. It didn’t happen on a mission, it didn’t happen when she cooked dinner for herself and Oliver, it didn’t happen when Connor called. It wouldn’t happen and it wouldn’t leave her alone until she was finished getting ready for a night of patrol and training.

Comm buzzing in her ear, she could practically feel the seriousness rolling through the alert in a way that just screamed “Batman.”

_Something has come up._

_I need you in Gotham, now._

She tried to ask if he wanted Green Arrow too but he cut her off. This was a job for Black Canary, no one else, he said.

Really, she should’ve known he was lying – it wasn’t a job for Black Canary, it was job for Dinah Lance. The feeling in her gut multiplied, swarming up into her throat as she saw only Jason standing there, hood tucked under his arm and lips pressed into a thin and harsh line. And to make matters worse – to really ice the cake on the moment.

It was the first – and only – thing he said.

“Roy’s stoned off his ass.”

No one could’ve blamed her if she’d laid him out on his back right then and there, her first instinct – he’s lying.

Her second was far worse: that he was telling the truth. But it was that unwinding in her gut, every instinct telling her something was off lashing out that threw the former-Robin back anyway, her staff at his throat, eyes narrowed into threats.

“Where is he,” she demanded, her hand perfectly still despite the urge to shake and the burn in her throat screaming out for her to use her Cry. “Tell me now, Todd or I will make you wish you stayed dead.”

“You’re a bit late on the punch for that one, Canary, but he’s fine. He’s locked up in one of my safe houses as far away from any street corner, stash or needle he can get his grubby fingers on. Bastard was lucky I found him when I did.” She could feel his throat vibrate with the words through the carefully forged metal of her staff – she could feel him, she could hear him. But she just couldn’t understand it.

Roy was in a safe house. He was using again. Probably Heroin, an old favorite of his.

It just wouldn’t compute. Roy Harper. Speedy. Red Arrow. Arsenal.

He was using again. He’d been doing so well, so goddamn well. She was his confidant, she held him together when he was breaking apart all those years ago. She brushed his hair back through withdrawals and whispered comforting words against his feverish forehead.

She failed him. She was supposed to be there for him, like a friend, a mentor. A mother. Tears burned behind her blue eyes, searing with a refusal to fall. She wouldn’t cry – there would be time for that later. Instead she whispered, hand dropping down to her side as Jason rubbed at his throat. “Take me to him.”

His lips pursed, hesitation furrowing between his eyebrows. She could see him ready to say hell no. Ready to turn her down, hop on his bike and speed into the night. And yet – his shoulders were heavy with responsibility, so much more so than the young boy in red, green and yellow all those years ago. He was older, hardened and bitter, but not as heartless as he wished everyone thought he was and wasn’t.

With a resigned sigh, he slipped the iconic red helmet into place, “Get on.”

He left as soon as Dinah was inside the building, vanishing into the night so much like the mentor he pretended to hate. “Second door on the right. Doors locked, break the handle I don’t care.” He’d said as they whipped through the midnight streets at speeds that would make Barry jealous. It was all he said to her, actually. No more explanations, no more arguments.

She stood there, just a thin barrier of wood and a bit of metal between her and what lie beyond. Delicately, she slipped a lockpick from her jacket – knowing full well it didn’t matter if she broke the door or not. Jason wouldn’t come back here knowing Canary knew where it was. It wasn’t a “safe” house anymore.

It gave with a creak.

“Jaybird, thought I said t’ leave me ‘lone.” The voice was so low, scratched and worn that for a moment Dinah thought she was right the first time, it wasn’t Roy. It was someone else, someone so much more broken than her little Harper. But there was no mistaking it once she opened the door all the way. It was a sight that burned itself into her memory nearly a decade ago, he was hunched over on the floor. His head slotting between his own knees and hands gripping at his own fiery red hair as limbs shook wildly – his whole body was captured by the tremors.

“Wrong bird,” she said softly, closing the door behind her as she stepped into the bedroom, the rancid stink of sweat and vomit stinging at her nose. The only light left to illuminate the scene was a sliver of moon sinking itself into the sheets of the bed as it slipped through a crack in the curtains. “Hello, Roy. Long time no see.”

At least he wasn’t so far gone he didn’t know her voice. His head snapped up, his eyes focusing and unfocusing at the rush he’d given himself by the motion. “I told him not to get you.”

“I wonder why,” Her rage had melted, and she was awfully sure she’d started crying before she’d even stepped into the room. His eyes fell back to the floor, “Roy, look at me.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.” She had to fight down the tiny smile. He was always a stubborn little brat but damn he was her stubborn little brat.

“Can we at least sit on the bed? Lord only knows what’s gone down on Jason Todd’s carpeting.” Her nose crinkled a bit at the thought, relaxing back once she added on, “I’ll help you up.”

He didn’t agree nor did he argue, he just sat there as still as he could be. She took it as agreement, however, closing the gap between them and kneeling down. “Come on,” she encouraged, one hand finding his side and the other holding to his arm as she gently pulled him up and set him down on the bed. He went back to his previous position of avoiding as much eye-contact as possible, one hand covering his face while the other hung over his legs.

She sat beside him in the wavering silence, trying not to watch his shoulders shake and shudder. They stilled a bit as she rested her hand on one, leaning closer to him and brushing his uncut and shaggy hair back behind one ear.

“I’m sorry, Di, I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, voice muffled by tears and fear, “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t… I’m not strong enough for this shit.”

Quietly, Dinah moved closer to him, arm sliding to wrap around his back as she rested her head on his shoulder. He took a moment, hand falling over his lips to try and hide his broken sobs. “She’s gone – she said she isn’t coming back, she said don’t – don’t look for her. I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t handle Oliver leaving and I couldn’t handle her leaving and Jay… Jay was off in Gotham…”

He was alone.

She could hear the teenager in his voice echoing a similar sentiment from her bathroom floor. He was alone. Alone, scared, and just too alone.

“I’m here,” she reminded, the unsaid promise of _I always will be_ sinking through the thick air around them.

He sniffled, a fast jolt of his body sending her upright. She tried to do the math as he clambered to a conveniently placed trashcan – if he was high when Jason found him, he’d be starting the worst of his withdrawal in a few hours. Now he was simply coming down. It would only get worse as the night progressed. He’d be irritable, dizzy, unmotivated. She already knew what to do, of course, she’d done this before.

“I don’t want to do this,” Dinah looked up as he spoke, arms clinging to the reeking trash. “I don’t want to do this again. The anxiety, the cramping – I couldn’t sleep for days last time, Di. I can’t do this, especially not witho-.” He cut himself off, turning back to the wall instead of her.

Jesus she wished he’d just look at her. His eyes were so expressive – so open and telling it wasn’t a wonder he hid them behind a mask or the brim of a hat all the time. “Without me.” She finished for him. She stood firm and closed the distance between them, kneeling down. He released the trash and sat back, nodding just enough for her to see.

She set her jaw, tears long since dried on her cheeks, “Roy Harper you look at me.” When he didn’t comply she pulled his chin up herself, narrowing her eyes once again just to search his bloodshot gaze. “Did I leave you when you nearly broke my nose?” He shook his head, his stare fixated on hers now. “Did I leave you when you puked all over my bed?” Again, he shook his head. “How about when you refused to speak? When you wouldn’t eat anything for days? When you spend almost a whole week in bed? Did. I. Leave?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Then what the hell gives you the idea that I’m going to leave you now? When you need me, Roy?”

He looked away again as she dropped his chin, sitting down beside him and taking hold of his shaking hands instead. He licked his lips, ready to speak before settling down into silence again. He let it simmer before he broke it, “I just thought…”

“No,” she cut in, “you didn’t. I promised you I would help you get sober, and that promise didn’t end with a five-year chip, Roy.”

“So you’ll stay?”

“As long as it takes.”


End file.
